Robert Pattinson

[p.s.iloveyou]

Hot damn, looking good in GQ!

And Alvedansen, that looks about right, good detective work.

 

[CharmingNicky]

I love him on the GQ cover

 

[Label Basher]

justjared.com

I know you're going to hate and curse me for saying it but in this picture with the black tight jeans and the wild hair he reminds me of Russell Brand. Of course he is way more hotter but I think it's the pose.

 

[Zkunis]

super hot!

 

[Alvedansen]

i don't hate you for that...i actually like russell brand i even think he's quite good-looking
although i don't see the resemblance in these pics...or any other - lol

 

[Alyssa-K]

justjared.com

I know you're going to hate and curse me for saying it but in this picture with the black tight jeans and the wild hair he reminds me of Russell Brand. Of course he is way more hotter but I think it's the pose.

Actually, those are the only ones I don't like from the photoshoot...

 

[Rebe]

Wow that one with the cigarette is just GORGEOUS!

i love that one

 

[Party_Vixen]

Just had to come in here and repeat what everyone else is saying . I think the cover is the best he has ever looked. So hot! And I love his comment about Joe Jonas .

 

[Alvedansen]

set pic...

lionandlamblove.com

 

[Alyssa-K]

Cute!

 

[Alvedansen]

some more here...trying to upload 'em
http://spoilertv-movies.blogspot.com/2009/03/twilight-new-moon-100-set-photos.html

 

[Alvedansen]

ok i'm giving it up...that site is horrible
and robert looks ridiculous with the blush, seems like they didn't get new make-up "artists"

 

[colourmefashion]

omg thats robert on set ?

go back on your cheeseburger diet baby.

 

[quiet heartbeat]

He reminds me of Penn Badgley there. o.O

 

[Alyssa-K]

Why blush ?? I'll definitely never understand those people.......

 

[Label Basher]

GQ Interview

HE’S HOT, HE’S SEXY, HE’S UNDEAD

Two years ago, Robert Pattinson was a forgotten extra in a ‘Harry Potter’ movie. Then he got cast as a blue-balled vampire in ‘Twilight,’ the year’s kazillion-dollar movie franchise, and every woman in America over 14 wants him. Too bad he’s not sure he wants them

“I mean—yeah,” he says. “I don’t see people. I don’t even have people’s phone numbers. I almost don’t want to have a girlfriend, in this environment.”

This is maybe the most poorly executed denial we’ve ever heard. This is, in fact, how we would deny dating Camilla Belle if we wanted as many people as possible to believe that we were totally hitting that, while still coming off as an untruthful person. Either Pattinson can’t lie, or he can’t lie very well.

It’s funny, because Pattinson worships Jack Nicholson, who’s legendary for giving interviewers less than the time of day. And he loves Brando, citing a YouTube clip of the actor giving a characteristically performance-arty and uncooperative press conference in the mid-'60s. Brando could do that, of course, because he was Marlon f**king Brando. Brando could show up, burp the alphabet in front of a couple of Associated Press guys, and catch the next plane back to Tahiti. Pattinson understands that this isn’t an option for him.

“The only way to establish any kind of mystique,” he says, “is to completely shut up and never talk to anyone. And I’m contractually obligated not to shut up.”

*****

Pattinson hasn’t shot anything new since Twilight wrapped. He won’t be in front of the camera again until this spring, when he starts shooting the next Twilight movie, New Moon, due out in November. But in the meantime, he’ll show up as young Salvador Dalí in a period drama called Little Ashes, about the pre-fame bromance between Dalí, director Luis Buñuel, and poet Federico García Lorca.

Pattinson auditioned for the movie two years ago, during a post–Harry Potter, pre-Twilight career lull. He’d been thinking about putting acting aside to focus on music. (Two of his songs, including the Jeff Buckley–ish ballad “Never Think,” appear on the Twilight soundtrack.)

He’d read for the Lorca part, but when they asked him to play Dalí, he said yes. “I wanted to have a vacation in Spain,” he says. “But it became just—really, really hard. I’d never done a job that was so hard.”

There was no budget. Most of the crew spoke Spanish; Pattinson didn’t. He spent a lot of time by himself, trying to figure out how to play the part, worried he’d look like an idiot. (For what it’s worth, all that effort is up there on the screen. Pattinson’s Dalí starts out as a walleyed, puffy-shirted Simple Jack type before morphing into the twirly-mustachioed culture-hero Dalí of dorm-room-poster fame. It’s one of those movies in which you can tell Dalí’s having an aesthetic breakthrough because he starts pressing really hard when he paints.)

“In a lot of ways,” Pattinson says, “I was kind of crossing lines of what I thought I was comfortable doing. I had to do all this naked stuff.”

See, Little Ashes contains a fair amount of homoerotic activity, some of which is portrayed artfully and obliquely (Dalí and Lorca dive together in a moonlit sea) and some of which is, y’know, not (Lorca makes athletic, spiteful love to a woman while Dalí masturbates gloomily in a corner). It’s the kind of project you could imagine a guy in Pattinson’s place taking on post-Twilight as a way of telling the world he’s versatile and/or fearless. Except it wasn’t.

“I thought I’d never get another acting job again,” Pattinson says. “So I was like, ‘Yeah—why not try to do something weird?’ There’s all these gay sex scenes. And y’know, I haven’t even done a sex scene with a girl, in my whole career.”

(While he says this, he’s pinching the skin on the back of his left hand and sort of twisting it clockwise with his right.)

“And here I am, with Javier [Beltrán], who plays Lorca, doing an extremely hard-core sex scene, where I have a nervous breakdown afterward. And because we’re both straight, what we were doing seemed kind of ridiculous.”

(Now he’s sort of laughing.)

“Trying to do it doggie-style. Trying to have a nervous breakdown while doing it doggie-style. And it wasn’t even a closed set. There were all these Spanish electricians giggling to themselves.”

He’s pretty sure the only reason Little Ashes is getting any kind of promotional push is that he’s in it.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “It would never have been released. I mean, that’s a terrible thing to say, but this was a movie where we didn’t even have stand-ins! We were scrambling, the entire time. We didn’t even have trailers.”

He hasn’t actually seen the finished film. He says he hasn’t seen any movie he’s been in since the Potter movies—not even Twilight. He took his mom to the American Twilight premiere, squirmed through the first ten minutes, then bolted. “I went out and sat in the car,” he says, “having a full-blown panic attack.” Ten minutes in, he looked up and realized someone was videotaping him.

He doesn’t want to watch himself on film because he’s worried he’ll look like a fraud. Even before he started acting, he says, “I was constantly thinking that I was faking my emotions. I was constantly attacking myself: You’re a fake, you’re a fraud.”

“I remember when I was a teenager thinking my girlfriend was cheating on me, and going around riling myself up. Pretending to cry. It was totally illegitimate—I actually didn’t feel anything. I went to some pub and then went crying all the way home. And I got into my dog’s bed. I was crying and holding on to the dog. I woke up in the morning, and the dog was looking at me like, ‘You’re a fake.’ ”

Was she actually cheating on you?

“No,” Pattinson says, laughing. “I thought I’d seen her with another guy, but she wasn’t even there. I spent three days apologizing to the dog.”

*****

Then there are girls, interrupting. Two of them—young, dark-haired, apologetic yet googly-eyed—approach the table to ask for an autograph. One of them hands him a Victoria’s Secret shopping bag to sign.

“Victoria’s Secret!” he says, brow arched. “What did you get?”

“I work there!” the girl says.

Pattinson asks whom he should make the autograph out to.

“Well,” the girl says, indicating her friend, “it’s her bag, so—Patty. Her name’s Patty.”

Patty’s bag is made out of that stiff, slippery, possibly-suitable-for-use-as-heat-shield-tiling-on-the-Space-Shuttle shopping-bag paper, and Pattinson can’t make a mark on it. Realizing there’s a crisis, Patty—who’s been sort of hanging back—steps up, suddenly emboldened, and says, “I have another pen. The movie was really good.”

“And you look just like you do on film,” the first girl says. “Which is a compliment. Because some people don’t. Like, Heidi Klum comes into our store all the time—”

“She looks different,” Patty says.

“She looks different,” the first girl says, then adds, softly, dreamily, “You look exactly the same.”

“Really?” Pattinson says, frowning. “People always say the opposite. What’s your name, sorry?”

“My name’s Eva,” the girl says. “E-V-A.”

“I always thought I could hide,” he says. He poses for a couple of pictures with the girls. The wallpaper on Patty’s cameraphone is a picture of Pattinson as Edward.

“Did you have that on there before?” Pattinson says. “That’s hilarious.”

*****

Pattinson doesn’t know what his first real post-Twilight project is going to be. When we ask him about Parts Per Billion, an indie drama he was supposed to star in with Dennis Hopper and Rosario Dawson, he says he doesn’t know, that the start date kept moving—“That’s the annoying thing about doing little films”—and sure enough, a couple of weeks after we talk, it is announced that he’s dropping out of the movie to focus on prepping for the Twilight sequel, New Moon, about which he knows very little, because he’s “never told s**t about anything.”

“I’m completely in the dark,” he says. “No one will even give me the script.”

They’re keeping you in a box.

“Yes,” Pattinson says. He mimes opening the lid of a coffin. “Shut up, Edward!”

He has a hard time even thinking of New Moon as a sequel, because it’s so unlike the first book. “I don’t know how they’re going to make a movie out of it,” he says, “because Twilight’s a love story, and New Moon is just—Bella’s manic-depressive throughout the entire book. There’s very, very little happiness, and there’s nothing teen-y about it.”

This may be the best-case scenario, that the Twilight movies will get darker and Pattinson will have a chance to throw some real heat, performance-wise. Hardwicke says that back on the Twilight set, before the movie’s franchise future was a sure thing, she and Pattinson “talked about a lot of other projects. He’s obviously ridiculously photogenic, but he’s also so talented and has so much insight. I see him creating stylized, odd, wild, fantastical characters, like what Johnny Depp does.”

Which would be great. But the worst-case scenario is that after four vampire movies—or, depending on how they carve up the 754-page behemoth that is Breaking Dawn, the last book in the series, five—no one will ever take him seriously as a mortal. There’s a chance that Twilight will go down as his 21 Jump Street, and there’s a chance he’ll be doomed to stalk the Twilight-convention circuit forever like some undead Mark Hamill, signing pictures of his 22-year-old self for an endless line of Pattys and Evas grown plump with age. We try to gently raise this issue by asking him if he’s got a post-Twilight game plan. He talks about starting a production company, maybe putting out his musician friends’ records. We note that he hasn’t mentioned any goals that involve acting.

“I’m not massively concerned about doing lots of acting jobs,” he says. “If it all just went, right now, I’d be like, ‘All right. I don’t really care.’ That’s probably a stupid thing to say. But I don’t, really. I think it’d be much worse to do a load of stuff that’s really bad. Because then you can’t go into another career. If you’ve made an idiot out of yourself, you’re never going to be taken seriously, as a lawyer or something, if you’re, like, a joke actor. The only thing I want from anything is to not be embarrassed.”

Still, we say. You didn’t talk about your acting. We totally gave you the window to James Lipton it up. (Or to try to convince us that you’re More Than Just the Sexy Vampire, we think but don’t say.)

“I literally have nothing to say,” he says. “So I don’t think, Oh, I wish they’d asked me about my craft instead of my hair.”

Is there anything you wish you’d gotten to talk about in this interview?

“Okay,” he says. Deep breath. “I f**ked Joe Jonas.”

We knew it!

“I love him.”

*****

Maybe he’s lying when he talks about the future, when he acts like he doesn’t care. But maybe he really isn’t massively concerned about what he’s going to do. If you don’t commit to a goal, you don’t have to worry about what you’re doing, or not doing, to make it come true. About what having your name on four or five vampire movies will do to keep you from getting there. About the choices you’re making and the ones you’re letting time and inertia and other people make for you. Maybe hanging back and reading about your life in the tabloids is less scary than committing, at 22, to something that might turn out to be beyond you. Or maybe he really does think about becoming a lawyer. Who knows.

Pattinson checks his phone. He has no new messages.

“Not a single person calls me,” he says. Not long ago, he says, he turned on his English cell phone for the first time in six months; he had two missed calls, from giggling teenage girls asking to speak with Edward.

We ask him what he has on tap for tonight; he mumbles something about “somebody’s birthday,” then talks about the social circle he’s developed in this city. “It’s so weird,” he says. “It’s like, ‘You were just my L.A. friend. I didn’t intend to have any responsibility for you whatsoever.’ ”

(“Somebody’s birthday,” incidentally, turns out to be a quasi-star-studded dinner at Il Sole on Sunset Boulevard; “L.A. friends” in attendance include girl-kissing pop temptress Katy Perry.)

Pattinson offers us a ride to our hotel. As we’re getting up to leave, he glances out the window behind him. “Well,” he says, “you’ll be encountering the other end of it now.”

Pardon?

“The 14-year-old paparazzo is outside,” Pattinson says.

Sure enough—when we get outside, there’s this kid, a scowling Dennis the Menace type in baggy jeans, blasting away with a giant camera.

“You look really young,” Pattinson says to the kid, who’s backing out into oncoming traffic, still shooting. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” the kid says. He looks 14. The moment couldn’t be more Felliniesque unless we were being pap'd by a dwarf in a loincloth. For a moment, following Pattinson across the street to his car, we recoil, trying to hide in our sweatshirt hood; then we remember that we’re nobody, that the kid could not give less of a crap about us, that if we walk away from Pattinson, out of the kid’s field of vision, he’ll leave us alone. We imagine what it would be like if this were our life, all the time. It would drive us mad, and we would probably live in fear of it ever stopping, because of what that would mean.

A few days later, the pictures show up on the Internet. It is breathlessly reported that Pattinson was enjoying a late-night snack (it was actually about six o’clock) with a “mystery male” (us) on Thursday (it was Wednesday). We’re in a few of the pictures with him. Pattinson looks goofy, possibly stoned, but still handsome, whereas we look sweaty, guilty, and possibly inbred.

We make it to the car and speed off. Pattinson’s old ’89 BMW finally died a few weeks ago, so he’s been driving this rented Audi S4. It’s a total junior-Endeavor-agent-on-the-make ride. We point this out. “I think my agent does have this car, actually,” Pattinson says. Before we’ve gone fifty feet, the windshield steams up and Pattinson can’t see a damn thing. He hasn’t driven the car on a cold day before, and he doesn’t know where the defogger button is.

He turns on the heat—“That’s supposed to do something, right?”—and then merges into traffic, still blind, cursing his way into the left lane. “I think I’m better off on Melrose, because there aren’t any pedestrian crossings,” he says. “You’re going to regret accepting this lift.”

Then he hits another button. Success. The windshield starts to clear and at last Pattinson can see where he’s going.

----

Interesting but he's fibbing again.

 

[Rebe]

some of the set-pics

spoilertv-movies.blogspot.com

 

[Alvedansen]

if i'm seeing it correctly not only the blush is back but also the lipstick...please can't they just fire that make-up crew?!

but thanks for those

and yes, he needs to get a few pounds back on, he's not looking his best...but i never liked the "edward" look

 

[Rebe]

i almost think he looks younger now than in twilight lol...well atleast on the last pic

 

[sleepingbeauty13]

Oh no, that awful, AWFUL make-up.